


Together in the Car or Space

by scullyphile



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, On the Run, in the car, on the road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:49:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10064111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullyphile/pseuds/scullyphile
Summary: Mulder and Scully get intimate in the back seat





	

Keeping track of what state they’re in is getting harder and less necessary. The sun rises and sets, and the lane lines blur into each other. Location doesn’t matter anymore; they could be anywhere. They could be anyone, as long as those people are tired and need a shower.

All Mulder wants is to feel alive for several minutes at a time. He never thought he could run indefinitely, but he used to think, at least, that he was strong enough to fade into the background for as long as it took. As it turns out it takes a long time, and time moves slowly.

Scully is asleep beside him in the passenger seat. He thought, at first, that she slept so much these days to make up for all the long nights he kept her up working cases, that she was making up for years of lost sleep. But now he thinks she might be depressed. Hell, he thinks he might be depressed. It’s easy to see how sleep and dreams would be a welcome escape from the endless prairie land. He could close his eyes now, for a little.

The car lists onto the safety markings along the side of the road, waking him from danger with their harsh warning sound. _You’re about to make a mistake_ , they yell. Mulder knows he needs to pull off and rest, but there haven’t been any promising exits for awhile. When his eyelids start to droop again, he takes the next exit.

It’s all farms, as far as the eye can see. Finally, he picks an old barn that doesn’t look like it belongs to anyone and parks the car behind it. It’s best to be careful, best not to be seen from the road, if anyone could call this a road.

Pulling one blanket from the backseat, he covers Scully. She’s drooling on her shoulder, and he smiles. Mulder climbs into the back seat of the Buick and curls up as best he can. There’s a pillow stashed there, and he’s so grateful to fall into it and sleep.

“Mulder,” Scully says sometime later, her voice barely reaching him in his sleep.

He makes a noise and shifts his hips, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“Mulder, where are we?”

“In the car.”

“Very funny. I knew you were awake.”

“I wasn’t until you started saying my name over and over. You know how I like that. Perks me right up.”

“I can see that,” she says. “Mulder?”

“Hm?”

“It’s cold. Can I come back there?”

“It’s a car, not a bed. There’s no–” he starts to say, but she hasn’t given him time to finish before she’s crawled over the console and on top of him.

“No room? I’m small.”

He scoots up a little, into a semi-upright position, and her hair drapes over his face. It smells like campfire. They had one the night before, and the smell still lingers.

“Where are we?” she asks again, her lips close to his ear.

“It doesn’t matter,” he answers. “Maybe Oklahoma. Maybe space.”

“If we were in space,” she says, her hands slipping under his shirt, “I’d like to think I would notice.”

It would be heaven to lift her shirt off over her head. Would he be able to see much in this moonlight? He starts to wonder if Scully has developed telepathy when she pulls her shirt off, then her bra.

“I thought you were cold.”

“I am.”

He does what he can to warm her cold skin with his hands as she faces him, straddling his lap. Cold as she claims to be, her lips are warm and soft on his neck. It takes them a few moments to get into a good position, a leg here, an arm there, but the struggle is part of the appeal.

It’s still dark, but he starts to wonder if a farmer might find them, two strangers making out in the back seat of a car. And then, after she unzips his pants, two strangers having sex in a town they’ve never been to, as far as they know.

No one else has claim to this time, the only part of the day he wants to last longer. Could he be dreaming the sound of her breath growing faster? One of his legs is asleep, and he doesn’t care. He grabs her hips, helps her lift and lower herself, helps ground himself.

She is real. The indents in his side from her fingernails are real. The shuddering of their muscles is everything.

There they are together, in Oklahoma or space.


End file.
